


Like Riding a Bike

by gingayellow



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Everyone is College Aged, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-06 02:57:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15185216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingayellow/pseuds/gingayellow
Summary: Shiro is gloomy because his Monsters and Mana pals had to cancel. Then the guy he had a big crush on in high school comes back into his life with a (literal) crash. [Shiro/Keith, fluff, tiny cw for discussing past accidents and trauma]





	Like Riding a Bike

Title: Like Riding A Bicycle  
Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender  
Characters/Pairing: Shiro/Keith  
Rating: PG-13  
Disclaimer: Not mine, anything mentioned here by name isn't mine  
Warnings: Mentions past accidents and trauma  
Notes: Alternate universe, Shiro and Keith are both 24 in this. Written for hc_bingo, prompt is "minor illness or injury." 

\--

“I really can’t thank you enough, Grandpa,” Shiro said as he set the pizzas on the table next to his hefty stack of Monsters and Mana books. “I’ll pay you back when I get my next check from the university library.”

“Don’t you dare.” Grandpa stuck out his tongue as he arranged the soda display _just_ right. “This is my gift to you for sticking with school—and keeping a 4.0 despite everything that’s happened.” He sighed softly, surveying the sodas. “Lord knows you deserve more, Takashi.”

Shiro hugged his grandfather gently. “This is all I ever wanted.” Not many people would spend their hard-earned money making sure his fully-grown grandson and his buddies were well-fed during for RPG night, but Shinnosuke Shirogane had not only raised Shiro, he’d never tried to make Shiro something he wasn’t. His face always scrunched up in confusion when Shiro went into “nerd mode,” but he always seemed to know what he wanted for his birthdays and would drive him to conventions. “Matt and Hunk are gonna love this.”

“Good. Tell them I said I said hello,” Grandpa hugged Shiro back before slowly making his way to the stairs. “Now, if you excuse, I have some _Murder, She Wrote_ to watch.”

“Okay.” Shiro resisted the urge to help himself to an early. This was going to be his first real chance to relax since the semester had ended. Nothing could ruin this evening.

\--

“Hey, Matt! …Oh. Oh, well don’t worry. I understand that you have an emergency meeting. Good luck.” Hrn. So much for their ninja.

“Hunk… oh, geez, don’t worry about me, just help your mom with those heavy boxes. She just got out of the hospital.” And so much for their cleric.

\--

Shiro sadly shoveled his second slice of pizza in his mouth. He wasn’t mad at his friends, of course—Matt had to work, and Hunk had to care for his mother. But… he didn’t really have friends at school. His old RPG pals were all he really had anymore, socially, after the accident. Not to mention he was still left with a mountain of pizza and soda that there was no way he could dispose, no matter how hard he tried to eat his feelings.

They weren’t kids anymore. They couldn’t just make it up next time they met. It had taken them a week of figuring out their schedules so they could meet tonight—and that had failed. In a few days, Shiro would be back in grad school and his only two friends would back in their respective towns, and Shiro? Well, he’d be living with his grandfather, buried in his books and therapy appointments.

It was just a game, but he still had to wipe at his eyes.

… Maybe a quick walk around the block would help. Maybe he just needed to stop looking at those blasted books. Shiro grabbed his coat and keys, silently thankful that his grandfather had almost definitely nodded off while watching television. He didn’t feel like explaining why he was spending another night wandering the neighborhood yet again.

\--

Unfortunately, the familiarity of his neighbor’s houses and yards only provided enough monotony for Shiro to brood over his situation as he stomped down the sidewalk. Honestly, it was probably for the best that Hunk and Matt canceled. He wasn’t much fun these days. Between doctors and attempting to finish up his coursework for his program, Shiro didn’t really have time for any other facets of his identity aside from _stressed astrophysics graduate student_ and _recovering from a car wreck that should have killed him_. It wouldn’t be much fun when they saw Shiro have a panic attack or check his email to see if his professor had finally gotten back to him about his thoughts for a thesis topic.

Maybe he just wasn’t meant to have friends. 

… And he was fairly sure his grandfather and his therapist would accuse him of negative talk, but whatever. He was sick of trying to be positive about his crummy life all the time, of pretending that good things for waiting for him in a world where a little bit of his heart got ripped out every day. He wanted to be bitter and angry about it for once, even if it was only for a few minutes. 

But the guy on the bike was going so fast, it snapped Shiro out of his thoughts.

Shiro hadn’t seen anyone ride that fast since high school. The fact that the rider was on a bicycle that looked like it was about to fall apart made it even more impressive. He was going too fast for Shiro to get a look at the man’s face, but there was something about his posture that even as a blur, was arresting. Should couldn’t help but stop in his tracks to stare.

But the sickening sound of the bicycle crashing compelled Shiro to move again. Shiro broke into a full run, because he’d fallen off the side of the road and into a small ditch, and good Lord, Shiro was pretty sure he wasn’t wearing a helmet—

“Hey!” Shiro skidded to a halt next to the man, phone out. “I-I’ll call an ambulance.”

“Nah. It’s fine.” The rider—a young man roughly Shiro’s age—winced as he did his best to stand. “Guess that’s what I get for riding in a strange neighborhood. I don’t know where the potholes are.”

“Here, let me help you.” Shiro was relieved that the man didn’t resist as Shiro slung the cyclist’s uninjured arm over his shoulder. “Are you sure you don’t want me to call someone?”

“It’s just a few bumps and bruises.” The stranger gazed at his bicycle woefully. “My bike, however…”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure your bike’s dead,” Shiro agreed. Since the man seemed disinterested in his personal welfare, Shiro took a moment to assess his injuries. Somehow, he’d escaped with no head injures (and considering he wasn’t wearing a helmet, fate must have cut him some slack), but his left arm was banged up and there were vicious gashes on both knees. “Listen, I really should call someone for you. We should take your bike to my grandfather’s garage so it’s not a hazard… are you sure you’re okay, because you’re giving an odd look.” 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” The stranger ran a gloved hand through his hair, an action that felt strangely familiar. “Weird question, but did you go to the local high school here?”

“Actually, yes…” Oh. **Oh.** Keith Kogane, the school’s obligatory bad boy with a heart of gold—the boy he’d had a not so secret crush on—had grown up a lot since they graduated.

“Shiro?”

“Keith.”

“Your hair went white.”

“I know.” 

“I think I will take you up on your offer to park my bike in your garage.” There was some quality in Keith’s voice that Shiro couldn’t quite place. “I think we have some long stories to tell each other.”

\--

“If I’d known about your accident, I would have come visit you,” Keith said before taking another bite of leftover pizza.

“Thanks.” Shiro was silently grateful that Keith didn’t do the usual _I’m so sorry_ or _It must be so hard for you_. Keith always seemed to know how to cut through everything and say what exactly what Shiro needed to hear. “Although you didn’t miss much. What they don’t tell you about recovering from losing a limb is that it gets incredibly boring. The past two years of my life have been nothing but doctor’s appointments. If I ever see another doctor, I’ll scream.”

Keith gave him a thoughtful look. “So, when’s your next doctor’s appointment?”

“Next week. I plan on a mental scream.”

Keith let out a short bark of laughter. “I missed your bleak sense of humor.”

Keith had missed at least part of Shiro. Hm. Shiro dabbed iodine on the remaining uncovered gash. “I’m doing fine these days, however. The prosthetic works, and I’m working on my master’s. I’m hoping to get my doctorate right after.” He took out a small bandage. “And you?”

“Forgetting how to ride a bike, apparently.” Again, blunt and to the point. Typical Keith.

Of course, Shiro realized as he studied Keith’s profile, Keith had changed as well. He’d hit a growth spurt. His hair was longer. His features were sharper. And it was faint, but there was a scar on his face. Here, framed in the first beams of moonlight from the window, Shiro realized that Keith had become a beautiful young man.

But now was not the time to give into old crushes. Keith was hurt, and Shiro was willing to bet that his bike was his one method of transportation. He needed a friend first. “Okay, I think you’re patched up, unless there’s something I missed.” Shiro stood up, dusting off his jeans. “Now all we have to do is wait for your clothes to finish drying.” The dirt and grass stains had made them unwearable, so Keith was currently wearing one of Shiro’s old mathletes shirts and sweatpants.

“Hm.” Keith leaned back against the couch. It’d been awhile, but Shiro could still tell when Keith was feeling out of place. He needed to do something that would make Keith feel at ease, something that would appeal to Keith’s preferences, something exciting and dangerous. Something Keith.

“Wanna play Monsters and Mana with me?” Shiro blurted out, and immediately wished that the floor would swallow him up.

“Sure.”

“Ha ha, that was a joke—wait. Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously.” Keith shrugged. “I’m guessin’ from all those books on your kitchen table you were planning for a game, but it didn’t happen. No point in letting all that work go to waste. ‘Sides, I like monsters.”

“Well, we can’t really play with only two people,” Shiro confessed. “But we can set up a character for you.” He thumbed through one of his older editions. “Now, this is a very complex game with a lot of lore, but don’t worry Keith, I’ll walk you through it—”

“Can I be a half-elf?”

“Well, yes.”

“Can I be a ranger?

“Yes.”

“Can I have a wolf?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“Cool, I’ll go with all that.” Keith helped himself to another slice of pizza. “What next?”

\--

Shinnosuke grumbled as he eased himself down the stairs. Even just ten years ago, he could have handled them easily, but he was aging faster than he would ever admit out loud. Well, at least he could still drive and offer the boys a ride home… except it was awfully quiet.

Sighing heavily, Shinnosuke picked up the pace as much as his knees would permit him. If the boys had canceled, he didn’t know what he would do. Takashi was such a sensitive boy—he did what he could, but sometimes Takashi would withdraw so fully, Shinnosuke didn’t know how to reach him. And after the accident, it was hard to get him to even want to leave the house unless it involved school. 

He entered the kitchen, fully prepared to console his grandson.

… Except that guy Takashi used to crush on in high school (Kyle? No, Keith) was playing Mana and Monsters with his grandson.

“Okay, we could put some goblins there. Heh, that’d terrify Hunk… oh, Grandpa, hi!” Takashi beamed at him.

“Were we too loud, sir?” Keith said.

“No. No, I’m fine.” Shinnosuke turned his attention to Takashi. “This looks a little smaller than what you planned.”

“Hunk and Matt had to bail.” Although Takashi didn’t seem too upset about it. “Luckily, Keith was here to save me.”

“I’m pretty sure it was the other way around.” Keith stood up. “Mr. Shirogane, I’m just waiting for my clothes to dry. Then I’ll get out of your hair.”

“No, you boys have fun. And Keith, you just say when you need a ride home, all right?”

“I don’t want to impose.”

“Keith.” Takashi gave his friend a long-suffering look. “Your bike is a twisted piece of metal in the garage. Take Grandpa’s offer. And take my offer of trying to salvage it tomorrow.”

Keith looked like he was about to protest, but Takashi gave him the same look he gave Shinnosuke when he refused to entertain the idea of dropping out of college. Keith caved, and agreed. Good—Shinnosuke had some things to ask him.

 

\--

Keith, clad in his tattered but now clean clothes, shifted uncomfortable in the passenger seat of Mr. Shirogane’s car. He didn’t like imposing on people, but he’d done so twice today. He should have stayed at the Shirogane household for so long, but it’d been so long since he’d seen Shiro at all—so long since he’d soaked up that soothing presence—that he’d forgotten himself. And now here he was, planning to impose on them again tomorrow.

“So, Keith,” Mr. Shirogane said as he made a left turn, “what do you do these days?”

“Forget how to ride a bike.” It worked on Shiro, maybe it would work on him.

Mr. Shirogane gave him a look.

“…Prize fighting,” Keith confessed. No one ever could lie to Mr. Shirogane.

“That’s very dangerous,” Mr. Shirogane mused quietly, eyes on the road. “But I’m guessing that you need to eat, and it’s the best paying job you could find.” His lips thinned into a thin, angry line. “It’s a shame how hard it is for young people these days.”

“Yes, sir.” Keith appreciated the sentiment but didn’t know what else to say. “Um, my apartment is the next one.” 

Mr. Shirogane parked in Keith’s driveway. “You know, my auto shop is looking for a new mechanic.”

Keith’s face heated up. “Sir, I don’t appreciate you pitying me—”

“Who said anything about pity?! You won awards for your work back in high school; the auto shop teacher wouldn’t shut up about you when she part-timed for me!” 

Keith stared at his boots. It’d been awhile since someone wanted something from him other than a fight. But tonight, someone had just wanted to play a game with him, and now someone was offering him a job. “I. I’ll think about it.”

“You better.” Mr. Shirogane gave Keith his business card. “My personal number’s on the back. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Keith stared at the card. He had a lot to think about tonight.

\--

Final Notes: Okay, let me see if I covered all my references here. iirc, apparently Mitch Iverson (as mentioned by Joshua Hamilton) said that Keith would be a half-elf ranger, so I went with that here. The wolf is probably obvious. XD I like this verse, but idk if I’ll do more with it.


End file.
